Forever and Ever
by Ranma064
Summary: All Fuji wanted was to hide his past with a smile and be with Tezuka forever. Just when he tells Tezuka his feelings, his entire world starts to fall apart around him. Rating subject to change. Tezuka/Fuji Slash warning: rewrite of previous story


**This is a rewrite of my story Eternity. I've been saying I'd rewrite it someday, and I will slowly but surely... I hope you like it. **

**R&R I love suggestions. **

Fuji looked out at the other members of the Seigaku's imfamous tennis team with his concealing grin. The others took no notice to his fingers tapping irritably across his arm while watching Eiji and Oishi practice their doubles. He looked normal. Honey brown hair, squinted eyes, and his trademark smile across his face.

However, the occasional twitch and incessant tapping was a clear sign to one team member something was wrong with the tensai. Unfortunately, the buchou was no where in sight, and hadn't been seen all day. Fuji highly doubted he could escape the entire team all day, so the tensai walked to Inui.

Inui pushed up his glasses, and without looking up from his notebook, told Fuji he did not know where Tezuka-Buchou was.

"Ah, I see."

"Do I hear disappointment, Fuji?"

Fuji smiled, "Its unusual for Tezuka to miss practice."

"The chance of him missing practice is 0.022 percent."

Fuji didn't reply to him, and left Inui to his analysis of the Golden Pair's most recent game. A towel shot out from behind him, "Fuji-ko!" Eiji shouted just as the purple towel wrapped itself around Fuji's hair and into his eyes. "Sorry, Fujiko! Oishi needed the towel and I didn't know you were standing there. Forgive me?"

"Eiji," Oishi took the towel from Fuji. "Stop bothering Fuji." He sent Fuji an apologizing look, and then handed the towel back to Eiji.

Eiji cocked his head, "Oishi, I thought you said you needed it."

"Oh! Right, I guess the wind helped so I don't need it anymore. Um, Fuji. Do you want to play a game?"

"A game?"

Fuji turned his eyes back toward Oishi, who had lost his interest soon after taking the towel, and nodded his head. Fuji scanned the courts again, he had to make sure he hadn't missed Tezuka watching over them in the shadows. "Sure."

They hit the tennis ball back and forth several times until the ball slipped by Fuji's distracted gaze. He couldn't concentrate on the ball; nevertheless, he prepared to serve the ball again to win back his point.

"Tezuka?"

Fuji's eyes snapped open, and ignored the ball he had just thrown up into the air to look towards Inui, the owner of the voice. Tezuka was no where to be seen. The neon ball plopped onto Fuji's mop of brown hair, and then fell to the ground.

The entire tennis team had gone silent.

"Fuji," Oishi forced himself to smile. "Are you okay?"

"... Hai. I thought I saw a bee."

Sure, Fuji told himself, it was lame, but at least it got half the team to shrug it off.

"Hey, Fujiko!" Eiji leapt onto the tensai's back, "I'll play with Oishi. The teacher gave me these weird papers to give Tezuka since he went home sick earlier. They say something about clubs and ... stuff."

"Why were you reading his papers?"

"Uh," the red-head flushed. "I was curious, of course!"

"Ah, I see. And you want me to give them to Tezuka?"

"Yeah, you've been over to his house before, right? I haven't been, but she thought I knew since I was on the team. I was going to give them to Inui, but... you should go home and get some sleep. I didn't see a bee."

Smile, "If you insist."

Fuji, glad to have an excuse to leave practice early to see Tezuka, left the court without the grace he intended. Within one step outside the locker room, Fuji tripped over a large branch and landed face first into the concrete.

The team, luckily, had not been paying attention, but Eiji watched his best friend with playful eyes. He was still smiling when Fuji stood up, brushed his pants off, and sauntered out of Seigaku with Tezuka's slightly crumpled papers.

Surprisingly, Tezuka lived nearby the school in a modest two bedroom house with his parents. As far as Fuji knew, he had no siblings to fight with, and his parents were gone on business trips half the year.

This is it, he thought just before pressing the door bell.

"Hello, Tezuka."

The man standing in front of him was not sick; his skin was not flushed, he did not look tired, in fact, he must have just gotten out of a shower. Tezuka's hair was dripping wet, and he was dressed in a white and green t-shirt with matching shorts.

No, Fuji corrected himself, He must be sick. No one but a sick person would wear such a disgusting green color.

"You don't look sick." The only reply he got was a nod, and Tezuka motioning him into the house. "Ditching school?"

"No, I had plans."

"Really."

"Yeah."

An awkward pause settled over the room, but Tezuka soon brought him a glass of water and sat down with him at the table. "Inui called me," Tezuka said. "He said you were looking for me."

Tap tap, tap tap, tap tap.

Fuji drummed his fingers against the wood, "Yes. I was."

"Why."

"I just wanted to know where Seigaku's buchou was. Its strange for you to miss practice. Inui had you at a 0.022 percent chance of missing."

"..."

Another pause. Another few moments, another increase in the rhythm of his fingers, another twitch.

"I love you."

If Fuji thought confessing was a good idea earlier, the pregnant pause following his confession destroyed any hope of a good reply. Tezuka didn't move, and Fuji refused to look anywhere except the glass of water sitting in front of him. He pushed the papers still in his hands to Tezuka.

Smile, "I should be going now. I just came to give you these papers."

His heart beat furiously against his rib cage as if it were trying to escape his body. He had to get out of Tezuka's house or, he reasoned, his heart would really burst out of his body. Adrenaline pulsed into his brain, down his arms, and finally into his legs forcing them into action. Fuji broke from his calm appearance, and said a shaky, "Goo-dd Bye."

"I feel the same way."

Silence.

Tezuka's soft reply was enough to stop all motion in the small space, and yet again, Fuji's body refused to listen to him. He tried to smile, to hide his emotions, but tears leaked through his squinted eyes. "What?"

"I love you too, Syusuke."

"You are a man of little words, aren't you?" Fuji's lips curved upward in a smile very few were blessed enough to witness. His toothy grin was like a small child's, but it was all Fuji Syusuke had to offer Tezuka now. "Can I call you Kunimitsu, now? Since you love me, it's only proper."

Tezuka scoffed and smiled despite Fuji's ridiculous statement. "Yes, Syusuke." He walked up to Fuji, and wrapped his arms tightly around the smaller boy. They stayed there for several minutes together, they let the new revelation sink into their hearts.

"Haha," he smiled, "You love me."

"Yes."

Back at the tennis courts, Eiji picked up one of the papers Fuji dropped on his way out of the locker room. He smiled, "I hope everything went well."

"What are you talking about?" Oishi asked, looking over his shoulder at the paper.

"Nothing, just a favor for someone. Hey! Hey! Lets go check out that new ice cream place! I heard they have some pretty weird flavors."

"Haha, okay, Eiji."

"Excuse me."

Another voice, foreign to both Oishi and Eiji, reached into their conversation and pulled Eiji's mind away from the new ice cream. The man's sandy blond hair and sharp features immediately made Oishi assume he was a foreigner, but his eyes were clearly Japanese and had no accent. "I'm looking for Fuji Syusuke," he said.

"Oh, he already left for today. Do you know him?"

"If I didn't know him," he answered back, "I wouldn't know where to look for him. Well thanks a lot for nothing."

"He was rude," Eiji stuck his tongue out at the mysterious man's back, "Lets go, Oishi!"

"Haha, okay."

Eiji grabbed Oishi's hand, "We should go on a double date!"

"With who?"

"You'll see," Eiji laughed.

In his mind, he could see Fuji, Tezuka, Oishi, and himself sitting at an ice cream parlor eating vairous types of ice cream. he smiled, "you'll see."


End file.
